


Second Chances

by veridical



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Swerve's, Various hints
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-18
Updated: 2015-01-18
Packaged: 2018-03-08 00:34:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3189161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/veridical/pseuds/veridical
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A crowd, coming together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Second Chances

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bigstupidjellyfish](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bigstupidjellyfish/gifts).



> This was a birthday present for a small, clever jellyfish. Originally posted on Tumblr. Headcanons ahead. (Heh.)

“Right. Here goes nothing," he muttered.

Riptide felt his hydraulics freeze up slightly the way they tended to do when he was nervous, and stepped into Swerve's.

The lights temporarily blinded him; he had to reset his optics a couple of times to adjust before he could look over everything. It _was_ bright, and full of chattering mechs. It wasn't like he expected any different, but it was still strange. He walked slowly, so as not to come up to the bar counter too quickly, and tried not to gape.

He felt like a tourist. He was not; he was part of this crew now. _Finally_. He saw some familiar faces here and there, but some of them were just big-name bots. Everyone knew those. He doubted his name would ever warrant even a side-line in the _Insider_ , not unless he did something marginally stupid (he didn’t really plan to). Most of the stuff he did after coming online was on the far-away planets, which was nice, really - Riptide particularly liked sunny coastlines (no sand), - but now, with just a handful of Autobots left, and pretty much no one he knew personally... Well. 'Left out' didn't cover it.

He tried to stealthily survey the room, but failed right at the part where you probably had to be a minibot to harbour any delusions about that.

In any case, Drift wasn't here, and neither was Pipes, but, of course, they wouldn't be.

When he was filled in on all the adventures the Lost Light had had, Riptide first felt a sharp pang of regret for everything he'd missed. On the other hand, staying behind had a bonus feature of staying alive, which wasn't bad at all. There were far too many opportunities to get yourself killed on the Quest of Quests.

And yet, here he was.

"Hey! Hey! Riptide, right?"

He turned to see a purple femme with a glass about the size of her helm. The glass was nearly empty.

"Uh. Uh," he said.

"Nautica," she supplied helpfully.

"Yes, I remember," he said quickly. "You were at the crewditions." And thank Primus he didn't have to be the one on the other side of the table. He couldn't take another bot ruthlessly tearing him down. Even Swerve.

She grinned. "Is it your first time here?"

"It totally is," Riptide replied, a bit taken aback. He _hoped_  to find a nice company one could easily spend off-hours with in stupid bar games and fervent discussions of the Insider. He didn't actually expect anyone taking an _interest_. He was, after all, somewhat ridiculous-looking. Also, tall. Scrap. Was that why she started talking to him?

He glanced around, but everybody else was otherwise engaged. Swerve was shouting at Whirl, evidently trying to be angry and non-threatening at once. Bad things happened to those who threatened Whirl. Smokescreen was laughing at a green mech sitting across him, nicely splattered with energon. Some bots Riptide didn’t know were playing a tabletop game, and Riptide damned his unfortunate timing once again – sure, the “staying alive” argument was still in play, but these three looked like they definitely had a well-established party. Finally, the hydrobot only just noticed an awfully quiet, but very non-threatening (Whirl probably liked him) small bot in the corner, sipping on his drink - most certainly something very simple and safe.

He turned back to Nautica, now inspecting her turbines.

"Wait! You're-- you're a floaty as well," he suddenly remembered. Maybe this was why. She must have seen they had this in common; you rarely saw mechs with a marine altmode nowadays.

"What?" Nautica asked, confused, but with some curiosity in her optics.

"Uh. Seamade? A hydrobot?”

"Oh. Yeah, sure am,” she held up her glass and finished it up. "Damn, Swerve serves good stuff."

Riptide snickered. Nautica frowned. "What is it?"

"Uh, nothing?"

Nautica squinted a little at him. Riptide felt his hydraulics stiffening again, inconceivably. _Stop it!_

"Well. You know. Swerve. Serve," he said sheepishly. 

“ _Ohh_ ,” she drawled. "Hah! Not _bad _. I mean, not close enough for a pun, but-- do you like puns?"__

__"I _live_ for puns," Riptide declared._ _

__Nautica grinned again. Riptide felt a brush of an electrofield right at the edge of his own, very soft, almost radiating joy, and grinned back helplessly._ _

__"Join me?" She patted the seat beside her._ _

__Seeing Riptide was already feeling ridiculous towering over a table like a giant boat he was, he plumped down eagerly. "So, how do you spell it? Naughti—?”_ _

__"Mooove over," he heard right beside him before another frame practically crashed into him._ _

__“Hey! Watch it!” Riptide protested, flailing a little and turned to see a plainly ridiculous mech grinning at him. How he could do that without any mouth, the hydrobot was not sure, but he was absolutely certain that there was a satisfied, practically smug grin directed right at him._ _

__“So very sorry,” he heard from another side of the table. Affronted, Riptide turned back, ready to tell the mech he really _was_ going to be sorry right now— and found Skids smiling apologetically at him._ _

__“…Oh,” Riptide heard himself say dumbly. “Sure. Uh. Tons of place for all.”_ _

__If Skids didn’t stop smiling like that, he would definitely need one more drink._ _

__“Anything new?” the masked bot was asking— Nautica, apparently, who shook her helm._ _

__“But I saved some for you!” she proclaimed, taking out a glass with a greenish substance from Primus knew where. “Swerve would have run out of it by now, he always does on busy days.”_ _

__The masked bot nudged her— probably, in thanks. Seeing as he had to reach around Riptide to do that, the hydrobot didn’t really care for the reason. He stared at the offender, whose frame was pressed right into him, and felt earlier annoyance returning with new force._ _

__“And you are—“_ _

__“Getaway.”_ _

__“Hm!”_ _

__Getaway didn’t seem to mind his short answer, happily slurping on his drink through a straw Riptide couldn’t help staring at._ _

__“Does it _have_ to be that… twisty?”_ _

__“Riptide, right?” Skids smiled warmly, and _damn_. Maybe there was something with this ship, making everyone’s smiles do… this. Do something to him that had nothing to do with his previous nervousness. Maybe it was a good thing Getaway had a mask on his face._ _

__But then, he was really annoying right from the first nano-klik. Riptide doubted a cheerful smile could help that attitude._ _

__“Right, yes,” he managed._ _

__He supposed the masked bot might’ve also found him annoying. Might have. Might have not. In any case, he didn’t really object to Riptide situated right between him and Nautica— even though Skids had the other side of the table all to himself, which was a bit too much, even considering his bumper. The three, of course, could still be waiting for someone - that was assuming Riptide got the feeling of an already established crowd right; and he should be savouring every bit of it, too, because any moment now he was going to get really really out of place here, and then… then…_ _

__“And where is—“ Nautica’s voice interrupted his trail of thoughts. Riptide turned towards her and saw the engineer (right, she was an engineer, _get a star for remembering that, Riptide_ ) looking around, faceplates screwed up a little._ _

__“Dunno,” Getaway said in-between slurps that Riptide found almost not that annoying, surprisingly. “Might be coming, but you know how it is. Oh, wait! There!”_ _

__Riptide raised his optics and glanced around as well, trying to understand who they were talking about. He saw Trailbreaker turning away from the bar counter, Swerve following him with an unexpectedly gloomy stare._ _

__Here was another mech Riptide was vaguely acquainted with. A good-natured bot, surely, quite skilled. Too bad the war saw to taking his gentle nature, along with every ounce of self-confidence he once might have had. Last time Riptide saw him— well, he certainly didn’t expect to see him again, here of all places._ _

__“Hey! Trailcutter!” Skids called out._ _

__Riptide startled, realisation slowly dawning at him, looked at Skids - at Nautica - finally, at Trailbr— _Trailcutter_ stumbling over to them, smiling just a tiniest bit. It felt nearly out of place; sure, Teebs grinned a lot, but this was something else. Genuine in a way that Riptide, squashed between the bots who didn’t seem to mind his presence in the least, was almost envious about. But mostly, really glad._ _

__If Trailbreaker smiled like that, well._ _

__Well, maybe there was something to be said for second chances, after all._ _


End file.
